The Many Adventures of Bucky Bear
by Drag0nst0rm
Summary: Everyone had a Bucky Bear as a kid. Everyone. They just never imagined it was the SAME one. No slash, don't own.
1. Chapter 1

The Bucky Bears were an instant hit. It was only a matter of time before one got sent to the Howling Commandos.

"Looks just like you, Sarge."

"Shut up," he grumbled, tossing it aside. Steve caught it midair.

"Aw, come on, Buck," he said throwing an arm around him. "You're both just so huggable."

Bucky threw up his hands. "The whole world's against me." He snatched at the bear. "Give me that."

A two hour chase culminated with the Howling Commandos staring straight ahead as Colonel Phillips demanded to know what, exactly, they had been doing. Rogers pulled on his earnest Captain America face and somehow managed to take five minutes to say absolutely nothing at all, the Bucky Bear safely hidden behind his back.

Peggy raised an eyebrow when she was applied to later to sew up a rip in the bear's mask, but she burst into laughter as soon as the shamefaced men were gone. Bucky Bear appeared an hour later, safe and sound on the Captain's bed.

Well. Relatively. The toy remained a popular subject for pranks until -

Until Steve came back and dusted the bear off and set him very, very, carefully on a shelf on the base where he'd be safe.

The bear stayed there until the war was over and a broken man stared at it for a long time before he packed it in with lab equipment and Steve's effects and took it home to New York.

Steve might want it to remember Barnes by when he came home.

. . . . .

Howard never gave up on Steve, never, but he did eventually let some of the things go. Steve wouldn't care, and it was better the things be put to use than left in boxes to collect dust.

"Here, Tony, I've got something for you."

The six year old held the toy with thinly veiled disappointment. "Oh. Thanks, Dad."

"Why don't you go play with him? I've got some work to do."

"Sure."

Stupid bear, he thought furiously. It was a baby toy. Didn't his dad know he was way too old for something stupid like that now? He was a Stark. Stark's were men, not babies.

He dropped the stupid thing into a corner and went back to work on his robot.

"Robot still needs some work, Tony. See how it freezes up when you put in too many commands?"

"Yes, sir. Could you - Could you help me?"

Howard glanced at his watch. "Can't. I've got to head out for the Arctic expedition. I've got a good feeling about this one. Sorry, sport."

Tony made adjustments to his robot. Then he had it slowly, methodically, rip Bucky Bear apart. It didn't make him feel as good as he thought it would. The eyes kept looking at him.

"Stupid," he said. He backed away and then took off running. He wasn't a baby. Only babies cried.

Jarvis sighed when he found the bear and carefully stitched it back together, new stuffing and all. Still, perhaps it would be better to donate the poor bear. Master Stark seemed to have had enough of it.

He dropped it off at Goodwill on his way home from work.

. . . . .

His mom's eyes were tired, but she smiled a bit as she sat down on the edge of his bed. "I know you can't help having nightmares, but your father needs his rest. He's very tired from the trip. He didn't mean to lose his temper."

"I know," Bruce mumbled.

"Here. I got you something from New York." She hands him a slightly worn bear with a mask and a costume. "This is Bucky Bear. He's a hero. Whenever you have a bad dream, he'll help you."

"I'm seven, not a baby," he muttered sleepily. His arms wrapped around the bear regardless, and he was out in seconds.

His mother patted him gently and left the room.

Bucky Bear was good at keeping secrets. Bruce told him everything, and he made the nightmares go away. Bucky Bear made him feel safe.

Dr. Banner went to tuck his son in, but he glared when he saw what else was in the bed. "You're too old for that nonsense. Don't let me see it again."

"Yes, sir," Bruce whispered, hugging Bucky Bear tighter.

Mrs. Banner added it to the box of donations and took it to the orphanage the next day.

Mostly, the orphanage stunk. But Bucky Bear, Clint quickly decided, was awesome. He didn't care that he was a little beat up. The scar's just made him cool. They meant that he'd had adventures.

Clint was five, and he had no trouble dreaming up what sort of adventures Bucky Bear had been on to get those scars. From now on, though, Bucky Bear would have him to protect him. He would keep him safe.

Or, at the very least, he would join Bucky Bear in getting into trouble.

Bucky Bear was brilliant. They went to the moon, played Captain America, and defended their turf in pillow fights together. Bucky Bear was his best friend for three brilliant years.

"Aw, baby has his bear."

Apparently, fourth grade was too old to have a stuffed bear. Even the adults were starting to hint that maybe one of the younger kids would like to have him. Clint didn't care. Bucky Bear was his.

Things were . . . bad. He needed something that was his.

Barney said they should run away. "Come on, kid. It'll be better away from here."

Anything would be better than here but -

"We are not taking that thing with us."

Clint jutted out his chin. Barney rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever. Let's go."

Somewhere along the way, Clint loses his backpack.

Bucky Bear was in it.

He's too stubborn and far too old to cry.

. . . . .

The bear was absolutely filthy, but it made for a good distraction, and the agent threw it at her pursuers. Two bullets clipped the toy in the ensuing fight, but the agent walked out alive and her pursuers didn't. The mission was a success.

On a whim, she picked up the bear and took it back with her to Russia and the Red Room. It would be a good example of American pop culture. The baby spiders could always use more ways to blend in.

She had it cleaned first, of course, and then she plopped it down in front of Natalya. "This is a teddy bear. Children play with them. This particular one is called a Bucky Bear, named after . . . ?"

Natalya answered promptly. "Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, aid to Captain America in the Second World War." Her English is flawless and the lisp that comes from missing two front teeth will be gone soon enough.

"Good. You will look after him for a week."

It would be a good lesson in detachment, as well.

Natalya took her duty seriously, of course. And this duty was nice. She liked it.

Spiders did not have preferences. Spiders would perform any and all duties asked of them.

But it was nice to have a confidant who wouldn't share her secrets.

"You are ready to graduate to the next level. You will have a new trainer."

Natalya nodded.

"First, however, you must destroy the bear."

Natalya liked the bear. It was soft. Her tiny arms tightened for a moment before she nodded automatically.

The agent places a new lighter on the table just as the new trainer walked in. His eyes locked on the table.

A flame went up. Natalya held it close to the bear.

"No."

The agent's head snapped around. "What was that?"

The trainer stalked across the room and snatched the lighter from Natalya's hand. "No. Bucky Bear."

The agent did not gape at him, was too well trained for that. Instead, her hand crept to her pocket. "Soldier, stand down."

"Bucky Bear," the trainer insisted.

The agent reached for the bear.

The trainer broke her wrist.

The agent pulled out a gun. The trainer's metal arm forced it from her hand. The agent managed to hit a button in her pocket and alarms started blaring. Guards rushed into the room.

In all the confusion, no one noticed as Natalya slipped out of the room and smuggled Bucky Bear into a convenient briefcase. Hopefully he would be carried to safety.

The assassin in training was back before she was missed. The trainer had been subdued, but his eyes were wild.

They had strapped him down to a gurney, but he was still fighting it.

Safe, Natalya mouthed to him as they pushed him away. Hopefully that would calm him. The mission had been completed.

For some reason, the trainer started to laugh in a way her training identified as hysteria.

That ruined her triumph somewhat, but she still went to bed satisfied. Her arms might be empty, but Bucky Bear was safe.

. . . . .

Missions took them all over the world. They were somewhere in Asia when Thor emerged from a damaged building with a teddy bear with as many scars as any Avenger.

"It is as scarred as any warrior," he said, beaming. "What is this Midgardian treasure? It is very pleasant."

"It's a teddy bear," Iron Man said from inside his suit.

"A Bucky Bear," Steve corrected, elbowing the toy's inspiration beside him. "Remember when you first saw one, Buck?"

"I remember the chewing out we got afterward," he grumbled. "And I remembered Morita ripping it's mask."

"I used to have one of those," Clint said wistfully. "Lost it eventually."

"I think dear old Dad might have given me your old one," Stark admitted. "I ripped it up pretty good though."

The Hulk punched him. Iron Man went flying. "Hey, big guy! What was that for!"

"Bucky Bear soft," Hulk said.

"Huh. Guess you had one too."

"I got to keep one for a week," Natasha volunteered unexpectedly. "I was supposed to destroy it."

Bucky froze. "Safe."

Steve put a hand on his shoulder carefully. "Buck?"

"You said it was safe."

Natasha shrugged as everyone looked at her, far too well trained to show embarrassment. "I was four. I elected to smuggle the target to safety."

"Do all children on Midgard possess them then?" Thor inquired.

"Nah, not all," Clint said. "Looks like we all did though." He thought for a minute. "You know, mine was used. Was pretty beat up when I got it, too. We know Tony's was Steve's. You don't think - "

Iron Man picked himself out of the rubble Hulk had thrown him into. "Mine was pretty much massacred. Sorry, Cap."

"Even for us, that's a bit far fetched," Steve agreed

"It could happen," Clint insisted. "Bucky Bear's magic."

"He is?" Thor asked, looking interested.

"No," Bucky said.

"Yes," Clint insisted. "He's not just a bear. He's real." He brushed off their skeptical looks.

"If he is, I hope he doesn't hold grudges," Tony grumbled. "Come on, let's go."

Tony woke up to the cold dark eyes of Bucky Bear staring down at him.

He shrieked.

Clint snickered from the vents.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I wrote this for my sister for Christmas. Obviously it's a bit late, but enjoy it anyway?**

It occurred to Tony eventually that Capt might be a little upset about Tony ripping up one of his possessions in a fit of childish rage. He hunted down a vintage Bucky Bear and gave it to him for Christmas. He got a brand spanking new one for Barnes. It was an acknowledgement that he was still a hero and as close to an apology as Tony would ever get.

Clint got one for everyone else, including his kids. This was received with delight (the kids and Thor), quiet thanks (Bruce and his wife), a shriek (Tony . . . possibly because his was spring loaded and launched itself at him), and an eye roll (Natasha).

Which didn't change the fact that Tony's got a lab coat and became an honorary science bro, or that Steve treated his like precious glass, or that Bucky got the message.

Or that one actually kept Bruce from hulking.

Five times. And counting.

Natasha would never have hers in her bed, of course. But she set it where it was the first thing she saw when a nightmare woke her.

Bucky Bear is magic, Clint tells his kids.

None of the Avengers dare to disagree.


End file.
